


Ever Gentle on My Mind

by owltype



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owltype/pseuds/owltype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s what Jaejoong is: someone almost too beautiful to even touch but god, Yoochun wants to sink his teeth into him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever Gentle on My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so out of practice. Honestly, this is the first thing I've written in months and I'm not even sure I like it but I had to write it because I just couldn't get it out of my head until I did. So. Here you go?

 

 

> _Through cupped hands 'round a tin can_
> 
> _I pretend to hold you to my breast and find_
> 
> _That you're waitin' from the back roads_
> 
> _By the rivers of my memory_
> 
> _Ever smilin', ever gentle on my mind_

Light spills across Yoochun’s face, pressing like weights against his eyelids and blindly, he reaches out with numb fingers to grab his mobile. Except it’s not there, and all his fingers touch is air. Confused, Yoochun cracks one eye open and considers his surroundings.

Oh, right. He’s in the barracks. Here, he has no side table on which to place his mobile--he has no mobile. Here, there are no comforts of home, only the scratch of the army-issue blanket and the crumpled picture he hid in his pillow case that first night.

He takes it out and holds it up to catch the moonlight shining in from the one window—thankfully his bunk is close to it: a luxury he had not been above begging for.

The picture is old, its edges faded and torn from age and grease from his skin. It’s an old picture, taken the same day he had first met the five men who would become his family.

Well, save for one. And Yoochun has no idea what to consider him aside from _everything_.

In the picture, Jaejoong is young and smiling, his arm thrown around Yoochun’s shoulders in an embrace. Even then--even on that first day, he and Jaejoong had shared something different. The boundaries that normally separate two strangers had not existed for them. It had left Yoochun feeling strange, full almost, like he’d indulged in a meal that was almost too decadent for human consumption. Like he’d eaten one of those cupcakes bakers make with pink frosting and candied flowers that look almost like the real thing.

That’s what Jaejoong is: someone almost too beautiful to even touch but god, Yoochun wants to sink his teeth into him.

Yoochun traces the curve of Jaejoong’s lips with his thumbnail. Jaejoong is older now, more world-weary than even before; but there are still traces of this smiling, naïve child in the man Yoochun has come to know as someone who transcends all named bonds.

Slipping the picture back into his pillow case, Yoochun lies back down in his bunk and turns to face the window, wondering if Jaejoong is also awake and pensive. Probably. Jaejoong never did sleep much, his body and mind too restless.

Not Yoochun, though. Jaejoong doesn’t call him a sloth for nothing. Already Yoochun can feel his eyelids growing heavy again, the desire to sleep a siren call he can’t resist.

He whispers a quiet _goodnight_ to the watchful moon and feels comforted to know that somewhere, Jaejoong is watching the same shifting shadows he is. In this, like in so many things, they’re the same. And though it can’t compare to feeling the warmth of Jaejoong’s skin pressed against his, it’s good enough for now.


End file.
